


You Are A Memory

by queenvenus



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Death, Emotionally Repressed, F/F, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenvenus/pseuds/queenvenus
Summary: you're going to die in your best friend's arms.an akuma attack leads to devastating consequences that shakes up marinette's entire world as she knows it. now she has to deal with the fallout and pick up the pieces of her life, while trying not to shut down in the process. what do you do, when a friend is hurt?





	1. Chapter 1

 

Ladybug vaults herself atop the nearest building, trying to catch her breath. An Akuma attack isn’t unusual this time of the day, but Marinette hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, and an attack just as school ended left her racing from school at top speed. She was tired, and the quicker she secured that butterfly, the better. Being Ladybug was always a thrill, but right now she’d like nothing more than to lay in bed with those cookies her mother had promised to make today.

Chat Noir landed easily beside her, hair ruffled from the wind.

“Everything okay, bugaboo?” he asked, grinning sideways at her.

“Of course,” Ladybug doesn’t miss a step. “Did you see where the Akuma went?”

“Just near downtown. We’d better get there quick, the last thing we need is a traffic accident.”

Together, they trapised themselves downtown, keeping sharp eyes out for the Akuma. Cars were already lined up on the street, the hustle and bustle of after-school traffic just beginning. Ladybug hated fighting akuma’s with so many people around. There was just too many risks involved.

“Do you see him? And what’s his power anyway?” Ladybug asked, standing atop the balcony of an apartment building.

“He’s called Full Tilt. He’s super fast, and I mean _fast_. The minute you blink, he’s gone.” Chat Noir’s green eyes scanned the road below. “I swear I saw him go this way...there!” He pointed, and Ladybug followed his gaze. Full Tilt was running across the street, pushing past civilians who were all trying to steer clear. Ladybug squinted, mouth turned down at the corners. Where was he going? Ladybug then saw a familiar backpack just a few feet ahead of him.

“He’s going after Alya!”

“Quick,” Chat Noir was already extending his baton. “Let’s go.”

They had only just leapt off the balcony before Full Tilt, in a burst of speed, zipped past the remaining civilians and stepped in front of Alya, who nearly tripped over her feet trying to back up. Ladybug flew through the air, zeroing in on Alya. If she could just stick her arm out…

And just like that, Alya was gone.

Ladybug landed on her feet, huffing in annoyance. Many an Akuma had tried to kidnap Alya because of her possible connection with Ladybug because of her blog. It hadn’t happened in a while, but nevertheless, it never ceased to anger Marinette. Her friend always turned out okay, and was more excited than terrified at being kidnapped by a dangerous villain. Alya called it a “rush,” Marinette called her crazy.

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir called, he landed on the building beside her. “Over here!”

“Here I come!” Ladybug threw out her yo-yo and went zipping through the air. For the next half an hour, Ladybug and Chat Noir spent most of their time flying through Paris, just frustratingly out of reach from Full Tilt and Alya. Just as it seemed that one of them had Full Tilt cornered, he’d flash out of sight and end up halfway across town. The constant running and gliding was beginning to take a toll on Marinette’s already tired body, though she tried not to let it show.

“We’ve been at this forever!” Ladybug cried in frustration, stamping her foot. “We’ll never catch him! It’s like he’s...Apparating!”

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Was that a Harry Potter reference, my lady? I didn’t know you were a fan.”

Ladybug smirked at him. “Yes, and we’ll have plenty of time to nerd out about it when we finish catching Full Tilt. I think I saw him heading towards the construction site.” At her tired expression, Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch him soon. We’ve gotten out of tougher scraps before.” Ladybug smiled.

“You’re right. Let’s get going.” Summoning up the last of her strength, Ladybug flung out her yo-yo and the two went launching into the air again.

 

 

Full Tilt was standing atop the scaffolding of a large building, still keeping an iron grip on Alya. He was so quick that Alya didn’t have the chance to try and escape. Ladybug and Chat Noir were advancing towards them, planning to ambush Full Tilt before he could make his move again. If they timed it right, and Ladybug was sure that they did, they’d finally defeat Full Tilt and get Alya down safely without injury.

Chat Noir scaled the scaffolding with quick precision, while Ladybug vaulted through the air, just above Full Tilt and Alya. Ladybug launched her yo-yo, wrapping it around Full Tilt, who had been too surprised to move. Ladybug landed on the scaffolding just as Chat Noir did. Keeping a tight grip on her yo-yo string, Ladybug looks to Alya. She’s still in Full Tilt’s grasp, the wind blowing her hair about, but she looks relatively unharmed.

Ladybug gives a sigh of relief at that, and Chat Noir advances, cataclysm activated. He touches the bracelet around Full Tilt’s wrist, causing it to crumble away in brown rust. The butterfly shoots out and Ladybug unwraps her yo-yo to capture and purify the butterfly. Her Lucky Charm reverses any damage done to the city, and Hawk Moth’s victim, now back to himself, nearly collapses in exhaustion. Ladybug could almost cheer, and she meets Chat Noir’s gaze with a beaming smile, and he grins broadly back at her. Yes, finished! Now she could go home and relax. Marinette could practically smell the flour from the bakery...

 

And then Alya slips off the scaffolding.

And then she’s falling.

 

Without even thinking, Ladybug jumps off the scaffolding, and soon they’re plummeting towards earth. She can vaguely hear Chat Noir yell her name over the harsh wind, the rush of it causing tears to rip fiercely from her eyes. She can see Alya’s blurred figure, speeding to the ground. It’s only then does Ladybug notice just how high up they are. She had never feared heights before, but the sight of her best friend falling so fast makes a tight knot of fear coil deep inside her stomach. Ladybug stretches out her hand.

 _Please,_ she thinks desperately. _Please let me catch her!_ Ladybug’s yo-yo string jolts her upright, protecting her from smashing into the ground, only a few feet from the street. Only a few feet from Alya, who is not as lucky.

There’s a horrible, stomach-churning _crunch_ and then silence. Ladybug lets go of her yo-yo, landing on the street. The noise of the world grows into a whine of panic as she starts towards Alya, who isn’t moving. _Don’t be stupid,_ Ladybug chastises herself. _Alya is fine. She’s always fine._ Ladybug looks down at the body of her friend, limbs bent at an angle, head tilted to the side. It almost looked like she was sleeping.

Chat Noir jumps down beside her, the Akuma victim had since been saved from the scaffolding and had disappeared somewhere into the melee of people. Chat Noir looks over Ladybug’s shoulder and sucks in a harsh breath. The citizens of Paris who had taken refuge since the attack started all start to crawl out of their hiding places, gathering at the street towards the superheroes. Cars roll to a stop, the windows opening so the people inside can get a better view.

“She’s not moving, kitty.” Ladybug says, voice flat. Her blue eyes are distant, dulled into a muted color. Her face is entirely blank, too blank for comfort. “She should be moving.”

“I called an ambulance, my lady.” Chat Noir whispers, and on cue, the wail of a siren pierces the quiet. The cherry red lights of an ambulance are rearing into sight. Everything feels wrong, somehow. This wasn’t supposed to happen, nobody was supposed to get hurt. She had done this millions of times, had swung from the highest points and faced the toughest villains. It was practically child’s play at this point. So how…it all happened so _fast_...

“Ladybug, your earrings are beeping.” Chat Noir takes her hand gently, but she still won’t move. “You need to go.”

“I won’t leave her, Chat.”

“You’re going to detransform.” he presses.

“I don’t care.” Her voice is dead, a cold endless void. The ambulance has arrived, and the paramedics jump out, gurney at their heels. They take Alya’s body and gently place her on the gurney, strapping her in quickly before she is set into the back of the ambulance. Ladybug wants to go with them, and she almost steps forward, but one of the paramedics stops her.

“I want to go!” Ladybug insists, and something inside of her threatens to crack apart. Chat Noir takes her by the elbow and guides her away, thanking the paramedics. Ladybug doesn’t resist, her body feels too limp and numb to make choices.

“You have to go home, Ladybug.” Chat Noir’s voice is calming, but it sounds as if he’s talking underwater. “It’ll be bad if you transform back right here.” He’s right, a large crowd has already formed. They all watched as Alya got carried into the ambulance.

Ladybug nods, and the action feels stiff and unnatural to her. Her movements are jerky and mechanical as she extends her yo-yo. She can’t meet Chat Noir’s eyes, and he gives her hand one final squeeze before Ladybug is launched into the air. He watches as her form grows smaller in the distance, and leaps upon a building. His eyes track the ambulance that goes roaring away from view, and something tight clenches around his heart.

Marinette makes it through her bedroom window and de-transforms. She heads downstairs without looking at Tikki, without thinking of anything. Her parents are in the kitchen, talking and laughing as if nothing in the world bothered them. Marinette envied them with everything she had. Didn’t they know about what happened? Couldn't they see that the world was ending?

Her mother looks up just as Marinette appears in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear.

“Hi sweetie!” she greets, and then her expression falters. “Marinette?” her mother moves towards her. “Are you okay?”

Marinette doesn’t even have a chance to respond before her knees give out from under her, and she faints.


	2. Chapter 2

 

When Marinette wakes up, she finds that her father carried her upstairs to her room. It's early morning, and the sunlight is pouring weakly through her windows. At first, nothing registers to her. She's wrapped up in her covers, and it's warm. It's soft. Marinette almost falls back asleep, when a sudden flash of memory makes her jump.

Alya falling through the air.

Her body lying limp on the ground.

Something lurches in Marinette's stomach and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly. Automatically, she throws the covers off and heads to the bathroom. After brushing her teeth, and splashing some water on her face, Marinette takes a long look at herself in the mirror. There are bags under her eyes despite the deep sleep she was in. Her hair is a mess and she’s in no mood to fix it. Her face has lost its color, and she looks almost sick.

Marinette turns from the mirror and heads out the bathroom. Immediately, her parents are in the hallway. Her mother is standing worriedly, holding Tom’s hand. Their expressions are ridden with sorrow, and Marinette pointedly ignores the looks on their faces.

“Marinette,” her mother begins, voice soft. “How do you feel?”

Marinette shrugs, her movements still feel robotic. “Fine.” she replies, voice raspy.

“Your friend Alya is in the hospital, Marinette.” her father says, thick eyebrows drawn together in concern. “There was a short story on the news, and we just got a call from the Cesaire’s last night. They…” he faltered at Marinette’s unchanging expression, but Sabine gently squeezed his hand and he continued. “They’d like it if all her friends were at the hospital, to see her.”

Something akin to hope sparks itself inside of Marinette. “She’s alive?” her voice is barely a whisper.

“We don’t know.” Sabine says with a shrug. “We haven’t gotten any word from the Cesaire’s since the phone call last night. Marinette, if you’d rather stay home today…”

“No,” Marinette is already making her way towards her room. “I’m going to school.” there’s a note of finality in her voice that leaves no room for argument. They don't know if Alya is alive. Nothing is certain, not yet. That’s enough to spur Marinette from her stupor and get dressed, even if she still feels rather numb.

Tikki emerges from Marinette’s purse, having stayed there ever since Marinette returned home after the Akuma attack. Her kwami watches, hovering in the air with a nervous energy.

“Marinette?” Tikki speaks up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tikki.” Marinette responds automatically as she opens her closet. Tikki would’ve been content with that if Marinette had actually looked at her, but the girl is rummaging around for her shoes. So Tikki settles back into her purse and sits at the bottom. Once Marinette is dressed, she grabs her purse and her phone and heads downstairs. Her parents are in the kitchen, whispering softly among themselves. They stop abruptly when Marinette enters, and it irritates her somewhat. Part of her knows this will only continue unless she snaps out of her daze, another part of her can’t seem to care. Tom presses a warm danish into Marinette’s palm when she attempts to go out the door.

“Eat,” he urges her gently. “You need your strength.” Marinette stills but accepts the danish, mustering up a small smile that feels much too forced. Tom suddenly rushes forward and wraps her in a hug, one so tight and warm and familiar that the first sign of tears threaten to rise in Marinette’s eyes. She wants to stay there forever, cradled in her father’s arms, awash in her mother’s love.

Hesitantly, Marinette pulls away. “Thanks, dad.”

She offers them one last smile and hurries out. The last thing she needs right now is to be late for school.

 

Word has gotten around, of course. The whole school is buzzing about Alya’s tragic accident. Marinette can barely listen. Each whispered rumor is only another black mark against her name and Ladybug, the one person alongside Chat Noir that was supposed to keep Paris safe. It was a tremendous failure, and the last of her father’s danish sours inside her mouth as Marinette heads to class. The class is somber, but at least they’re not whispering.

All eyes turn to Marinette, which is worse. She makes her way up the steps and slides into her seat. It’s almost too much to bear, sitting in class without Alya beside her. Ms. Bustier even looks sad, but doesn’t miss a beat. She tells them all to pull out their books, as they have a lot of work to do. Marinette is grateful for the distraction, and dives into her work, trying her hardest to block out the rest of the world.  
They have an essay due, and Marinette writes down all the important notes needed just as the bell rings. The rest of the day goes by in a blur, and by the time school is over, Marinette had avoided talking to anyone.

It’s not like she _wants_ to avoid people, she just...can’t muster up the effort it takes to talk. And what could she possibly say? All anyone would talk about is…

“Marinette?” A voice jolts Marinette out of her fog, and she looks up from her notes. Her heart twists painfully. _Nino…_

He looks beyond tired, and his hat is discarded. Marinette can see strands of his hair sticking up from all the times he ran his fingers through it. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh...yeah, I’m fine.” They both know she’s not, but the thought of telling the truth makes her sick.

“We were all thinking of visiting Alya after school. Do you wanna come?”

The notion of going is terrifying, but having her friends there soothes Marinette’s fear. Maybe, if they all went together…

“Sure.” Marinette clears her throat. “She might be alive, there hasn’t been any confirmation yet.”

“Yeah!” Nino nods eagerly. He’s as desperate to believe that as she is. “We should be going now, I can give you a ride if you want.”

Marinette nods, zipping up her backpack and shouldering it. She leaves with Nino out the door. Practically half the class plans to visit, planning the visits over the course of the coming weeks, all taking rides from parents or friends. Marinette is surprised the Cesaire’s would want so many people visiting, especially since their daughter’s life hangs in a delicate balance. Walking out of school, Marinette slides into the car, thanking the Lahiffe’s for driving them. She spots Adrien walking to his limo, and while it’s only a glimpse, she can see that he’s faring even worse than she.

Marinette had attempted to fix her hair before coming into school, trying to keep up a nice appearance, but it looked as if Adrien had given up on the prospect entirely. It surprised her, what with his strict father, she thought he all of people would’ve kept up appearances. Nino catches her staring after Adrien as the car starts to roll away from school and out onto the street.

“He took the news pretty hard last night.” Nino muttered softly, amber eyes sullen. “He was crying over the phone when he talked to me.”

Shock zip-lines through Marinette’s stomach, and her throat closes up slightly. “H-He was…?” Nino nodded silently, and they don’t speak another word until they reach the hospital.

 

Marinette fires off a quick text to her mother about the trip to the hospital, and by the time she tries to get her thoughts in order, they’ve pulled into the hospital parking lot. They slide out the car, and the trip up to the intensive care ward is nothing but a blur. The entire building suddenly feels devoid of air, and a horrible chill goes running through Marinette. Her fingers are shaking, Nino notices, and he takes her hand in his own, intertwining their fingers.

The gesture is nice, but Marinette can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. The earlier spark of hope she felt back at home has been extinguished, and she tries desperately to keep the flame alive. Alya was strong, resilient. She could pull through, and miracles happened, didn’t they? Even if the recovery period took a year, even if she was paralyzed...she’d still be alive...and that’s what mattered…

The Cesaire’s are sitting in the hallway, Alya’s mother is tapping her foot, with her head in her hands. Mr. Cesaire is sitting next to her, one arm around his wife. They both looked as if they hadn’t slept in days, the grief clouted across both their faces. Adrien is already there, leaning against a nearby wall. He looks torn between wanting to comfort the Cesaire’s and stay to himself. Marinette can understand, what on earth could he say to grieving parents?

The nurses file out of Alya’s room and pull her parents aside. They talk for a couple of minutes, and Marinette can tell it isn’t good. Mrs. Cesaire’s face crumples, and Marinette sucks in a breath. Nino is standing behind her and squeezes her shoulders reassuringly.

“Nino…” Marinette says, voice shaking. “What...what if she’s already--”

“No,” Nino cuts her off. “Don't talk like that, Marinette. We just...we just have to have faith. There’s no word yet.”

Marinette nods, pursing her lips in a thin line. The Cesaire’s finally take notice of the three kids standing in the hall. Mrs Cesaire hugs them all, clutching Marinette the tightest.

“I’m so sorry.” Marinette whispers in Mrs. Cesaire’s ear, and the woman nods.

“I know, dear. I know.” Mrs. Cesaire pulls away, eyes glinting with tears. “This is difficult, but we wanted you to be here. She was always happiest...with her friends here…”

Suddenly, a harsh beeping comes from Alya’s room. Her parents immediately rush in, not bothering to close the door. A doctor and several nurses practically plow Marinette over in their haste to get to Alya. Marinette feels her knees weaken, and Adrien walks over to steady her, gripping her by the elbow. Nino rubs her arms, but she can tell that he’s just barely keeping himself together too. Marinette meets Adrien’s eyes, the same beautiful green she had come to adore were rapidly filling up with tears.

One minute passes. Then two. By the time five minutes have gone by, Marinette is starting to think everything’s okay. Perhaps she had stabilized, but there’s shouting coming from the room. She can’t see Alya despite her best efforts.

The drone of a flatline makes Marinette’s heart stop.

Mrs. Cesaire’s anguished scream is the blade that cuts Marinette’s thread of hope in two.

 ** _“A-ALYA!!”_** Marinette lunges for the door, something horrible and primal has erupted within her. The scream rips from her throat before she can stop it. A sob wracks through her body. **_“ALYA!!”_**

Adrien has wrapped his arms around her waist, stopping her from going any further. Marinette can’t even try to pull him away, she just collapses into him. The combined weight makes them both kneel to the floor. Adrien doesn’t let go, even when Marinette’s fingernails dig into his arms, even when Nino sinks into a chair and puts his head in his hands.

Alya Cesaire is dead, and something in Marinette dies with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is going to be a pretty long fic if i can help it, and things are only going to get worse for our characters before they get better. comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

 

Marinette doesn’t remember anything after that. Uncurling herself from Adrien, the ride home. Marinette can’t recall a single detail, the only thing she remembers is Mrs. Cesaire’s scream flooding the entire ward. It doesn’t take a lot of effort for Marinette to recall the way it sounds. It was a horrible, primal thing. Her parents dote over her for the rest of the day, trying to get her to eat and drink something. Instead, all Marinette does is sink into bed and pull the covers over her, desperately trying to block out the world.

News of Alya’s death spreads quickly, and eventually finds its way into the news. Marinette doesn’t watch, she can’t afford to. It’s a small piece, albeit sad, and her mother watches with tears in her eyes. Marinette knows they’re concerned about her, but the endless “how are you feeling?” is growing tiresome. What was there to say? How could Marinette possibly articulate herself, when all she felt was numb?

Tuesday night, there’s a recording from the school. There will be a candlelight vigil for Alya starting tomorrow, and all were invited to attend. The thought of even going makes her stomach flip, but she sets her alarm and gets ready for school anyway. If she wasn’t strong enough to save her best friend, the least she could do is live with the discomfort, the agony that comes with living when someone you love dies.

Tikki flies above her head, for once at a loss for words. Tikki always knew what to say when Marinette felt sad, but this went far beyond failed tests and a love confession still unsaid. There’s never been tension between her and Marinette, but the kwami feels a rift beginning to form between them, one she can’t seem to cross.

The next day, Marinette prepares her day as usual. She brushes her teeth, fixes her hair. Puts on her clothes. The motions are starting to feel less stiff, but her face remains relatively blank. She shoulders her bag, grabs her purse and phone and leaves the house with a murmured, “goodbye,” to her parents before heading off to school. Normally, Alya would meet her at her house and they’d walk to school together, sharing macarons her father made as a last-minute breakfast. The memories push to the surface of Marinette’s mind as she walks the familiar route to school. The two of them racing in the rain to school, both having forgotten their umbrellas. Marinette clinging to Alya, the two of them holding onto each other’s arms as they traverse the ice and snow in December. Normally, such bad weather would put Marinette in an equally bad mood, but having someone by your side to brave the bitter cold always helped, and they’d arrive in school, breathless from laughter, faces pink from the chill.

It felt so strange, knowing that Marinette would never have days like that again. Now that summer was approaching, she could only imagine the two of them walking home from school, stopping by the ice cream parlors or heading to her house to finish schoolwork. The days were growing lovely, and for once, Marinette would be alone to see them. It made the knife in her heart twist painfully, what a cruel consequence.

Arriving into school, Marinette puts her things away in her locker, grabs her books, and heads to class. It’s somber and quiet, not unlike the first day when Alya was in the hospital. But this is different, there was a chill in the air. An awkward, creeping frost that glazed over the classroom. Marinette slinks into her seat, taking out her books. Ms. Bustier tries to conduct class the best she can, but Marinette eyes the pallor in her face and hears the occasional wobble in her voice as the lesson proceeds. Marinette tries her hardest to focus on her schoolwork, and not on the clock steadily ticking down the minutes until the vigil. It doesn’t start for another couple hours, so why is she worrying now?  Marinette runs a hand through her hair, nearly messing up her pigtails. All of this is giving her a headache, and she suddenly wishes she had stayed home.

She can feel Tikki shifting around in her purse, and she opens it just a crack. Tikki’s wide eyes meet hers, and the kwami offers her a small smile. Marinette smiles back as best she can, but it’s too forced to feel natural, and Marinette shifts her focus back to the teacher. Tikki’s antenna droop sadly, and she lays in the bottom of Marinette’s bag. The day feels weirdly rushed, Marinette can barely process it, much less interact with anyone. It feels she’s stumbled into a dream, and vaguely wonders how long it’s going to take until she wakes up.

 

The candlelight vigil is at 7:30, which gives Marinette time to do her homework and pick out an outfit. When the school day finally ends, Marinette quickly gathers up her things and heads out the door, trying not to notice how Rose attempts to talk to her. Marinette feels bad, but talking to anyone about Alya is out of the question. She can’t even really think about it for more than a couple of seconds before she feels like falling apart.

Her parents greet her when she gets home, and Marinette gives them a short debriefing of her day before heading to her room. She’s halfway up the stairs before her mother stops her.

“Marinette?”

Hand still on the banister, she turns to face her mother, who is giving her a worried but determined look. “Your father and I would like to talk to you after you finish your homework.” It’s not a question, and Marinette gives a nod before heading to her room. Tikki flies out of her purse, and watches as Marinette takes out her books and starts on her schoolwork. Tikki still doesn’t know what to say, and never has she been at a loss for words for so long. What good was she if she couldn’t help her dearest friend? The savior of Paris was suffering, and Tikki felt useless in the face of her misery.

Time drones on as Marinette does her schoolwork. For once, she isn’t struggling with it, even though the last thing she wants to do is think about her essay. She wants to crawl into bed and stay in there for the rest of the day. Her pencil point snaps midway through her rough draft, and she opens her drawer to look for a pencil sharpener. She rummages through sticky notes and discarded pieces of jewelry before she stumbles upon a crumpled piece of paper.

Confused, Marinette takes it out and unfolds it, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. She squints at the handwriting and realizes it’s a note. She passed notes with Alya all the time, which seemed silly since they sat right next to each other. Marinette swallows thickly and begins to read it.

_\- You’re totally making heart eyes at Adrien, Mari._

_\- No I’m not!_

_\- You’re drooling, girl._

Marinette remembered blushing at that and eagerly wiping at her mouth. How embarrassing, if anyone saw…!

_\- Why don’t you just confess already?_

_\- Ha-ha, like that’s so easy, Alya. Why don’t you try confessing to Nino?_

Alya’s eyes had widened at that and she smirked before writing on the paper.

_\- Okay, I’ll do it._

_\- WHAT?!_

_\- You think I won’t? Nino’s cute. And I’m a catch, we’d easily win hottest couple._

Marinette had laughed at that, garnering a few glances from around the room before she put a hand over her mouth.

_\- Do you think Adrien and I would ever become a couple?_

_\- Maybe if you_ _ CONFESSED! _

_\- What if he doesn’t like me?_

_\- Then he’s crazy. You’re a great girl, Marinette, and I’m sure he knows it._

_\- Really?_

_\- Yes, and you better make your move quick. Because I fully expect us to go on double dates._

The thought made Marinette squeal, and Ms. Bustier had turned to them.

“Something you want to share with the class Ms. Dupain-Cheng? Ms. Cesaire?”

They both quickly shook their heads, Marinette’s face heating up.

“N-No, ma’am.” Marinette mumbled.

“Nah.” Alya put her head down, and Marinette could see her trying not to laugh.

Marinette clutches the note a little tighter. That had been...what? Two months ago? It felt like only yesterday. She traces Alya’s words, the blue from her marker had bled through the paper, contrasting with her own pink gel pen. There were tons of handwritten notes passed between them stored somewhere around her room. Some of them, Marinette had thrown away, and she cursed herself for it. Those were precious, now that Alya was gone. She’d never get them back, and now…

Marinette shuts her drawer with more force than she intended, and puts her things away. She’ll focus on her homework later. Before Tikki can stir from her resting place, Marinette leaves her room and descends downstairs. Her parents are in the living room, the t.v. droning on in the background. Her father has set out a plate of cookies, and pushes them towards her as Marinette enters the living room and sits down on the couch.

Marinette takes a cookie, and nibbles on it quietly while her parents try to talk to her.

“We know Alya...dying has been very hard for you, Marinette.” Her mother hesitates on the word ‘dying,’ and clasps her hands together. “But you know you can talk to us, right?”

“Yes.” Marinette says through a mouthful of cookie.

“We don’t want to push you,” her father interjects. “But we also don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to us about this. It may be difficult, but we’re here to listen to you, no matter what it may be.” Sabine nods encouragingly.

“Of course, and if you think you might want to see a…a therapist--”

“I don’t need to see a therapist.” Marinette says immediately, standing up. She doesn’t want to be rude, really she doesn’t, and her voice softens. “Thank you, really. But I’m fine.” she brushes the crumbs off her shirt. “I’m going to lay down until the vigil starts.” Marinette leaves the living room, and her parents don’t try to stop her. She shuts her bedroom door, discards her clothes in favor of some shorts and a big t-shirt, and falls into bed. Marinette thumbs through her phone, but it only makes her think of Alya more. She’s tempted to scroll through the last few texts they sent each other, but she can’t bring herself to do so.  It just...hurt too much.  
  
Something rolls inside her stomach, and Marinette puts her phone down. She pulls the covers over her head, hoping to get some sleep.

“Marinette?” Tikki calls, and from her close she sounds, Marinette can only guess that her kwami is hovering right over her. “Are you asleep?”

“No.” Marinette answers. She’s not really in the mood to talk, and she guesses that Tikki can sense that, because she falls quiet soon after. Marinette doesn’t like being abrupt with her parents, she doesn’t like shutting Tikki out, but something inside of her just can’t bring herself to speak to anyone. She just wants to be left alone, with her own thoughts, no matter how much they might hurt. Eventually, she does doze off, and her mother gently wakes her up to get ready.

Marinette pulls out a black dress with a white peter pan collar, an orchid collar chain attached. Alya had been the one to pick out the chain, and Marinette had loved it immediately. Seeing the dress on the hanger brings back a floodgate of memories, and Marinette takes a deep breath before putting it on. She wears her hair up in a bun, and puts on a pair of studs. It feels a little ridiculous, getting all dressed up for something like this. But part of Marinette knows that Alya would want her to show up looking her best.

Lastly, she grabs her phone and heads downstairs. Both her parents are in the bakery, the smell of flour and sugar in the air.

“I’m leaving!” she calls from the door, and her dad stops her.

“Marinette, hold on!”

He comes into view, wiping his hands on an apron stretched around his stomach. “I have something for you...one minute.” he rushes into the living room and comes back moments later with an armful of lilies, carefully wrapped in plastic. The leaves are deep and green, the petals pure white. “It’s for the vigil.” he presses the flowers into her arms. Marinette breaths in the smell, and gives him a puzzled look.

“I went out early and bought them.” her dad explains, giving her a fond look. “Be careful, dear. Call us when you get to the school.”

Marinette manages a smile. “Thank you, dad. I’ll be home soon.”

She gives him one last look before she heads out the door. Halfway there, Marinette keeps wiping at her eyes. She tries to tell herself it’s the flowers making her eyes misty, and a part of her almost believes it.  


The vigil is already starting when she gets there. A crowd of students have already gathered by the front steps, as well as many teachers and even a few parents. There’s a picture of Alya on the front steps, surrounded by flowers of every kind. Marinette takes her lilies and places them gently next to a bouquet of sunflowers. Seeing Alya’s face makes Marinette bite her bottom lip. Something hot is blocking her throat, and she remembers the note she had dug up from her drawer.

“I’m going to tell him, Alya.” she whispers, making sure no one is around to hear her. “I’ll tell him, just you wait. You’re going to be so proud of me.” The urge to sob is rising up inside of her, and it takes monumental effort to keep it down. Marinette dives back into the crowd, and carefully takes a lit candle. Practically the whole class has come, Marinette can spot a few of them littered throughout the crowd. She stares off into space as the principal gives a small speech, and catches sight of Adrien. It’s surprising, even after everything that happened, her heart still dances at the sight of him. He’s dressed in black, and he looks much too formal for a candlelight vigil. Though his posture is straight, there’s an immense sadness in his expression.

Marinette almost wants to go to him, remembering the day she had collapsed in the hospital ward, but finds her feet  rooted to the ground. She can’t approach him, even now, and she feels like a coward.

Once the vigil is over, Marinette attempts to sneak away before anyone can see her. She isn’t in the mood to engage with any of her classmates, there was simply nothing for her to say. She takes one last look at the picture of Alya, surrounded by flowers and toys and photos alike; and turns to head home. Before she can get away, however, something moves out of the corner of her eye, and Chloe is striding purposely up towards her.

Marinette can feel her irritation spike at the sight of her classmate. Alya and Chloe never got along, and all the arguments they had in the past come roaring to the front of her mind. Marinette won’t know what to do with herself if Chloe gave some sort of snarky remark about her or Alya….but even Chloe wouldn’t be that heartless...would she?

“Marinette.” Chloe says, matter-of-factly, her hair undone from it’s usually tight ponytail. Her pearl drop earrings are swishing as she moves, and it’s only natural that she’d try her best to look fashionable, even on a day like this. Marinette already has her guard up, prepared to defend herself if necessary.

And then Chloe Bourgeois is hugging her.

Marinette is too shocked to pull away, but her shoulders tense. She can smell Chloe’s perfume, something sweet but not too strong, the kind of thing her mother would wear.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe whispers in her ear, and Marinette never knew she could sound so sad. “I know you loved her most of all.”

Chloe pulls away, and Marinette, completely speechless, finds that Chloe’s eyes are glistening with tears. Chloe squeezes her shoulder before departing, leaving Marinette stunned.

A couple of seconds later, Marinette finds it in her to walk again. She walks home slowly, eyes to the stars. She greets her parents when she gets in, and heads back into her room. She finds a cup of tea sitting on her desk, still hot, and three cookies from earlier. Marinette changes into her pajamas, unties her hair and climbs into bed.

She sips her tea and leaves one cookie out for Tikki. Moonlight pours into the room, and the breeze lulls her into sleep.

When Marinette sleeps, she dreams of Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a much longer chapter, and I'm sorry for the wait. But I hope you all enjoy, the fourth chapter will come much more quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

Adrien is the last to leave Alya’s candlelight vigil. He knows his chauffeur is waiting, but he can’t bring himself to step away from Alya’s picture. He had left a bouquet of sunflowers for her, tied in a white silk ribbon. Adrien fiddled with the tie fixed too tight around his neck. It feels like a noose, closing in tighter and tighter.

Finally, when all the candles have been extinguished, and everyone has finally left, Adrien walks back to the car and gets inside. He always dreaded going home, but this feeling in the pit of his stomach has been gnawing more insistently with each passing day. It was hard seeing Nino at the vigil, who looked so tired and worn. Adrien remembers the day Nino and Alya had officially gotten together, one month before she...before…

Adrien shakes his head, and runs a hand through his blond locks, he can’t think about this now. If he gets too far inside his head, he’ll never come out. Adrien had been spacing out much too frequently as of late. He’d be sitting at the dinner table (alone as usual) and he’d suddenly think back to Alya falling through the air, and he’d be still for so long that Nathalie would have to shake his shoulder. He could spend hours like that, eyes unseeing, face completely impassive. It scared him to a degree, but he knew how to swallow down fear a long time ago.

The car rolls up to his house, and Adrien exits, thanking his driver before heading upstairs to his room. He’s only just settled in, in the middle of taking off his tie before a knock at the door sounds.

“Come in.” Adrien says, having to clear his throat before speaking. Nathalie pokes her head in the doorway, eyebrows wrinkled in concern.

“Adrien,” she begins, voice strangely soft in place of her usual flat tone. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” he lies, pointedly not looking at her. It’s easier to answer questions like that when he is preoccupied. Unbuttoning his shirt, making his bed. If Adrien busies himself long enough, eventually he may start to believe that he really is okay.

“Can I bring you something? Some tea?”

“Tea would be fine. Thank you, Nathalie.” she nods, closing the door behind her. Adrien quickly changes into his pajamas and climbs into bed. He taps his fingers on the surface of his covers, bounces his leg. He can feel an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach, and he quickly reaches for a book. It’s a textbook for school, something drawn-out and boring, but it’ll do. He flips to a random page and tries to distract himself.

Minutes later, Nathalie comes in, cradling a cup in one hand. She walks fully into his room and places it by his bedside table.

“Thank you, Nathalie.” Adrien says, looking up from the book he can’t even fully process. She smiles, a stunted sort of thing, and glances down at his lap.

“What are you reading?”

“Uh…” Adrien turns to the cover. “Human anatomy.” it comes out like a question, and Nathalie purses her lips.

“Well, you should get some sleep. You have a test tomorrow, don’t you?”

Adrien nods, and Nathalie leaves soon after. After a few minutes, Adrien puts the book away and takes a sip of tea. There’s no sugar, of course, but he doesn’t mind. The bitter taste is welcoming.

 

Later that night, Plagg is sitting on Adrien’s work desk, gazing at him with sharp green eyes. Plagg knew just how hard Adrien was taking this whole thing, and it bothered him to no end that he couldn’t find anything suitable to say to help him through this. Plagg may be gruff and nonchalant about most things, but even he couldn’t stop something inside of him from cracking when Adrien detransformed and frantically called his friend, Nino, on the phone. The image of Adrien falling apart is forever seared in the back of his mind.

There’s the sudden click of the door, and Plagg dives into an open drawer, huddling in the corner. He’s able to peek out, just slightly, to see Nathalie step into the room. She moves, quiet as a phantom, to Adrien’s sleeping form. There’s something tucked under her arm, and she leans over the boy carefully. Plagg wonders if the woman is even breathing. It’s a book, he realizes, though he can’t see the cover. She slips it carefully underneath his pillow, and Adrien shifts under the covers. Nathalie stills, freezing, and Plagg ducks his head.

After a few seconds, Nathalie straightens up, sighing, and makes a speedy exit towards the door. Once the room is dark again, Plagg flies out from the drawer and rests back on the desk. There’s a square of cheese for him, and Plagg picks at it absentmindedly. He doesn’t devour it with his usual gusto, instead he picks off small pieces and chews thoughtfully, still staring at Adrien’s sleeping form.

 

When Adrien wakes up, he’s almost late for school. He hurries out of bed and reaches for his clothes. Despite his strict upbringing, one thing he’ll always be happy about is his habit of setting out his school clothes the night before. He dresses in under two minutes and is reaching for his phone when something catches his eye.

There’s something sticking out from underneath his pillow. He lifts his pillow up, and cocks his head, confused. It’s a book of fairytales, with a light green hardcover painted with flowers. Adrien picks it up, thumbing through the pages. He didn’t read fairy tales, the only books he had were dictionaries and studying material. There’s no way his father had put it there, so who….?

Adrien checks his phone and starts. If he doesn’t hurry, he’ll be late for school. He stuffs the book into his bag, careful of Plagg who is nestled between some papers and his pencil pouch, chewing on a block of cheese. Adrien runs out his room and out the house, climbing into the limo. Thankfully, his driver doesn’t comment on him barrelling out the door, and simply drives away from the house and towards school.

Adrien only manages to grab an orange before the bell rings for his first class. He peels it and eats the slices at his desk. Ms. Bustier doesn’t scold him about eating in class, as he rarely ever did so. The class goes on as normal, and Adrien tries to focus on the lesson, but his mind keeps wandering. Sitting in class like this is when he spaces out, the memories are too much, too alive. He can still see Alya waving hello to him as they took their seats. He can remember her texting in class and never getting caught, quick as a fox.

There was a time when he hadn’t eaten breakfast, and Adrien tried his hardest not to pay attention to his growling stomach. It was embarrassing, trying to focus on the lesson while his stomach growled loudly. Alya had tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned around, she had placed a still warm croissant in his hands, winking at him slyly.

“From the best baker in Paris.” she whispered, and Adrien spent the next couple of minutes eating the croissant behind a large textbook, trying to avoid Ms. Bustier’s careful eyes. That had been such a forgettable day, and Adrien wondered how that could be. How many interactions with Alya did he deem as forgettable and unimportant until now? They were close, sure, and he considered her a very good friend. But they could’ve been closer, he could’ve done _more_. Is this what happened, when a classmate died? You spend all this time thinking of them, and what could have been?

There’s a sinking feeling that Adrien is all too familiar with. The tremble in his hands begins to start, and he starts to fidget. He taps his pencil against his paper in quick succession, trying to steady his breathes. The room feels too small, as if the walls are closing in. Was it always so hot in here? Since when did he start shaking?

“Adrien?” Ms. Bustier’s voice snaps his out of his daze. She’s giving him a concerned look, and several other students are looking his way. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I..” Adrien begins, and the word comes out so jagged that his throat closes up. He forces himself to speak. “I--uh...I’m…”

“Adrien, I think you should go visit the nurse.” Ms. Bustier suggests. Her tone is gentle, but the worry is clouted clear across her face.

“I’ll take him.” Nino stands up, taking Adrien firmly by the elbow. He guides him to his feet, and Adrien clings to him tightly. Together, they walk out of class, and Adrien happens to catch a glimpse of Marinette just as he leaves.

She’s peering at him, an odd look in her eyes, her chin resting in her arms. She doesn’t look like the girl he once knew. Her eyes are too sad, her face is too blank. She’s Marinette the ghost, not Marinette the girl. The lovely. The blessed.

Looking at her scares him, and Adrien links his hand with Nino’s.

 

They manage to get to the nurse, but they don’t step fully into the office, because Adrien’s knees are giving out on him. He suddenly can’t breathe, the action stings his lungs. Nino turns towards him, frowning.

“Dude?” Nino says, and shakes him just a little. “Hey, can you hear me?”

He can, but Adrien can’t bring himself to nod. Nino gently takes Adrien and sits him down on the floor, backs to the wall.

“Adrien. Adrien! Can you hear me?” Nino holds up their hands, fingers still interlocked. “Can you squeeze my hand?”

Slowly, Adrien gives Nino’s hand a weak squeeze. Nino nods, face brightening up just a tad.

“Okay. Now, I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”

Adrien tries, he really does, but his heart is going too fast, and his lungs are straining. They feel stretched apart, like cords on the verge of snapping. Nino’s voice is the only thing that anchors him down, so Adrien does his best to comply. It takes what seems like forever, but Adrien can finally match his breaths with Nino, and all the muscles in his body start to relax. Nino takes Adrien’s hand and presses it to his chest, and Adrien closes his eyes. He focuses on Nino’s heartbeat, steady and relaxed. He does that for a minute or two, until he thinks he can stand. Nino helps him onto his feet, and Adrien takes another deep breathe.

“Feeling better?” Nino asks, and Adrien ducks his head, feeling a blush coming on. He felt so pathetic, falling to pieces like this in front of his best friend. Nino was probably suffering so much worse than he was, but he was still going out of his way to make sure he was alright. What was it going to take for Adrien to pull himself together? Why couldn’t he be stronger?

“I’m sorry.” Adrien says, voice thick, and Nino shakes his head.

“No, man. Don’t apologize.” Nino opens the door to the nurse’s office. “We need each other, after all.”

 

_-Day of the Accident-_

 

_It’s incredibly easy for Chat Noir to slip into the hospital. The ease in which he opens a nearby window and climbs into Alya’s room worries him somewhat. He thought the hospital would be a bit more secure. The moonlight is strong, and it highlights Alya’s sleeping face. Even like this, she’s beautiful. The beeping of the machines are the only indicator that her life is in danger. Chat Noir looms carefully over her, wary on the I.V. attached to her arm._

_There’s a paleness in her face that makes him squirm. He can’t believe that only a few hours before she was walking home from school, fresh-faced and lively. She went from waving goodbye on the front steps of the school, to falling through the air, to lying here in the hospital. Chat Noir can feel something in his chest tighten at the sight of her. This shouldn’t have happened, not to her. Alya was good. She was good and vivacious and too full of life to end up like this. Chat Noir can still see Ladybug jumping from the scaffolding._

_She had looked so broken, so lost. Chat Noir wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the whole world fell away._

_“Hello there, Alya.” Chat Noir speaks to her comatose form. “It’s your hero, come to visit you.” Hero. Chat almost wants to laugh. What a joke, he wasn’t anything close to being a hero. Right now, standing over her, he was just a scared boy in a leather suit, feeling like a fool about to come apart at the seams. He takes a rose and places it in the vase by her bedside, a red blooming flower among yellow tulips._

_“You’ll have to wake up, soon, princess. So I can visit you properly. I’ll even give you an autograph.” he attempts to smile. “Heck, I’ll even throw in a kiss, just to see you open your eyes.” His voice cracks, and Chat Noir can feel his throat close. “Show me your eyes, Alya. Please.”_

_The machine beeps on._

_Carefully, Chat Noir leans over and places a small, delicate kiss on her forehead, smoothing away her hair, so soft and glossy._

_In. Out. He has to breathe. But looking at Alya feels like the entire earth in devoid of air. The earth feels strange, tilted. With Alya so fragile and thin, nothing seems right. It’s wrong. This whole thing is so utterly wrong._

_“Goodnight, princess.” The tears make their way, unbidden, down his face. Chat Noir doesn’t attempt to wipe them away. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to do something towards adrien's perspective. comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

 

The days pass by slowly. Marinette doesn’t go to Alya’s funeral, even though she knows she should. Instead, she spends the day in bed with a bucket by her bedside. She has the flu, and her mother makes her stay in bed. She places a bowl of soup and some crackers by her bedside, along with a heaping mug of tea. Marinette doesn’t know how she got sick, but her mother has an idea. All of the stress and anxiety Marinette had been shouldering had finally taken its toll on her.

So here Marinette was, confined to her bed, and the ache in her heart cuts particularly deep at the moment. Whenever Marinette got sick, Ayla would always come to visit her, even when Marinette told her not to. Just seeing her friend poke her head in always put Marinette in a better mood. The thought of Alya makes Marinette’s stomach roll, and for a moment Marinette thinks she’s going to be sick again. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, trying to quell the churning in her stomach. After a couple of minutes, Marinette is confident she won’t throw up. She sits up in bed, feeling her weak muscles strain to keep her upright.

She reaches for the soup, carefully balancing it on her lap before picking up her spoon and taking a sip. Chicken and rice, her favorite. Marinette doesn’t turn on the t.v., and she doesn’t check her phone. If she turns on the t.v., she’s afraid she’ll see something on the news about Ladybug’s massive failure to save a civilian. If she checks her phone, she’ll be tempted to look through the texts she and Alya sent to each other up until the day she died. Both options are out of the question, both are too painful for her to contemplate.

She dips her crackers in her soup and takes a bite. It’s quiet save for her crunching, and Marinette can vaguely hear her parents talking downstairs. The smell of sugar and baking bread wafts through the house. Backed up against a mountain of pillows, Marinette leans back without having to worry about her soup toppling over and looks to the ceiling. She briefly remembers that she has an essay coming up, along with her other homework that needs completing. A part of her worries that if she doesn’t get to it, her homework will pile up. Another part of her can’t bring herself to care. How can she possibly even think of homework at a time like this?

She takes a few more bites of her soup, stirring her spoon around in the bowl apathetically. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and her mother pokes her head through.

“Marinette.” her mother says, peering at her worriedly. “How are you feeling?”

Marinette shrugs. “I’m okay.”

Her mother hesitates for a minute, eyes dropping to the floor before she looks up again. “You have a visitor.”

Marinette blinks, surprised. A visitor? She didn’t tell anyone she was sick today.  “If you don’t feel up to it, I can send him away.”

Him? Was it Nino? Marinette wasn’t sure she wanted to see him right now. “Who is it?”

“It’s Adrien.”

That makes Marinette do a double take. Of all the people in the world to come see her, Adrien was the last person she would expect. It wasn’t that he was mean or anything. He was the nicest boy she had ever met, and he had come over to her house from time to time. But they hadn’t spoken since that day at the hospital, Marinette wasn’t even sure what to say to him. She nodded anyway.

“He can come in.”

Her mom disappears, and a few moments later, Adrien Agreste is walking into her room. He looks much better than before, when he had that panic attack in class and had to be sent to the nurse. Marinette had watched the whole thing with a blank face, but her insides had shriveled up at the sight. Even now, her affection for him still burned strong. Most of the time, Marinette didn’t feel much. It was only Alya and Adrien that could pull any sort of emotion out of her. Adrien gives her a small smile in greeting, and it would’ve made her incredibly happy had it not looked so flimsy.

“Hey.” he says, voice small.

“Hey.” Marinette repeats back. She doesn’t have it in her to conjure up a smile, not even a fake one. She motions for him to sit anywhere, and he takes her computer chair. Marinette is suddenly grateful that she took down all his photos from her cork board. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed he would see them (okay, maybe she was), it was more about erasing anything that had to do with her life before this whole tragedy happened. It wasn’t just Adrien’s photos that were taken down, but Alya’s and her pictures of Kitty Section.

Marinette just..didn’t think she could look at them. Since she failed so spectacularly as Ladybug that day, she reasons that the least she could do is rid her room of all those painful memories and cope with the discomfort of living. A tense silence falls between the two. Adrien can’t bring up how blank her eyes were when Nino escorted him out of the classroom. Marinette can’t bring up his panic attack. Together, they’re stuck.

“Are you feeling well?” Adrien asks, finally looking at her.

“Yes.” Marinette responds. She was almost afraid of getting too close to him in case he caught her germs, only to remember that she wasn’t actually sick. “How are you?”

Adrien merely shrugged, and those kind, green eyes of his darken just a bit. “I’m alright.”

Marinette picks at her soup, still trying to eat. She knows that if she eats she’ll feel better, but with Adrien staring at her from behind his blonde hair, she feels rather self-conscious. Normally, having Adrien in her room would be a dream come true, but all Marinette feels is awkward and uncomfortable. She’s stirring her spoon around in her bowl when a sudden thought occurs to her.

“Wait,” Marinette turns to face Adrien, and he perks up under her gaze. “How come you’re not...at…?”

She realizes that she can’t say it, but she doesn’t need to, because Adrien gets it. Of course he gets it.

“I went for a couple of minutes,” he says, eyes flickering to the floor. “But I...I couldn’t stay. So I left some flowers and left. A lot of our classmates were there, though.”

“What did she look like?” Marinette asks suddenly, and Adrien blinks at her. “Alya, I mean. Did you see her?”

“I did.” Adtien answers after a moment or two. “She was wearing this blue dress, with wildflowers on it.”

Marinette stiffens. She knows that dress. She knows it well.

When she jolts out of bed, she nearly knocks her soup bowl off her lap and onto the floor. She grabs it before the broth sloshes onto her covers and sets it down on her bedside table before climbing out of bed.

“Woah,” Adrien sits up from her computer chair and blinks. “What’s...what are you doing?”

Marinette is walking on wobbly legs towards her closet, already forming an outfit in mind.

“I got her that dress, Adrien.” she tells him. She feels her skin flush as the memory surfaces with a vengeance. “I got it for her last birthday.” There’s too much to say in such a short amount of time. She can’t possibly explain to him that Alya had went nuts over that dress and had been eyeing it in the shop window for weeks. She can’t explain that Alya looked positively stunning in that dress when she finally put it on, and vowed only to wear it for special occasions. She most definitely couldn’t tell him that this would be the last time she’d see her in that lovely, splendid dress. Suddenly, Marinette feels completely stupid for staying in bed this long. She had worked through sickness before. What if she was too late, and the funeral was already over...

“Wait, hold on.” Adrien has moved across the room and takes Marinette’s wrist, stopping her mad scramble through her clothes. “Marinette, you’re sick. Do you really want to go outside--”

“Yes,” she tells him firmly. “I have to see her, Adrien. I need to go.”

“Marinette…” they lock eyes, and Adrien can see everything in her. Her eyes are blue fire, her mouth set in a determined line. He couldn’t dissuade her from this no matter what he said. Eventually, Adrien sighs and nods.

“Okay, okay.” Adrien checks the watch on his wrist. “I can get you to the funeral.”

Something akin to hope rises in her eyes. “Really? You will?”

“Of course.” Adrien tells her firmly. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Marinette nods. “I won’t be five minutes.”

 

Adrien stands outside Marinette’s closed door, a nervous pit in his stomach. He suddenly feels like all of this is a bad idea. What if she gets into trouble? What if her fever worsens while they’re out? Adrien couldn’t bear the thought of causing Marinette to get even sicker. Maybe he should knock on her door and try to persuade her to stay home…

On cue, Marinette opens the door and steps out. She’s wearing a simple yellow dress and a pair of earrings. There was no time for makeup or anything lavish.

“Ready?” she tells him, and Adrien reluctantly nods, giving the barest of sighs.

“Let’s go.”

They head downstairs together, and they don’t even make it to the door before Marinette’s parents stop them.

“Hold it!” Sabine says, getting up from her position on the living room couch. “Where are you two headed?”

“I’m going to see Alya.” Marinette responds, trying to hide how breathless she sounds. Adrien catches the slight hitch her breath and drums his fingers against his leg worriedly.

“You’re sick, Marinette. You’re not going anywhere.” Sabine was rarely ever strict with her daughter, she had no reason to be, but this was different.

“But mom…!”

“She’s right, Mari.” Tom walks into view, apron stained with flour. “You could make your fever worse. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But--” Marinette falters as another flash of heat rises to her face. She feels weak and thirsty and she’s sure a headache is coming on. But despite all of that, she wants to go. She needs to go. She hasn’t seen Alya since that awful day, and that’s not a memory she wants associated with her. If this was the last time Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to see Alya Cesaire, than she would see her dressed in flowers. “But..”

“I’ll be with her.” Adrien speaks up. “I have a driver outside that will take us to the funeral and bring her back home safely.” He holds up a hand, placing the other over his heart. “I promise, I’ll look after Marinette, and if it seems like she’s not doing well, I’ll bring her straight home.” He stands ramrod straight, and bows at the waist. “I won’t let anything happen to your daughter.” He rights himself, and throughout the whole speech, Marinette can only think of one thing: he reminds me of Chat Noir.

That thought is brief, overshadowed by his heartfelt words. This, she realizes. This is why she fell in love with him. His unwavering kindness, his polite behavior. He was willing to stick his neck out for her. He had come to visit.

Tom and Sabine stare at each other, silently communicating with each other with just one look.

“Alright,” Sabine finally relents, shoulders dropping. “You can go, Marinette. But please be careful.” Sabine knows how much Adrien meant to her daughter, and she can see that familiar fondness in her daughter’s eyes, coupled with a fire that Sabine thought was long extinguished.

“And call us when you get there.” Tom warns, raising a thick eyebrow. “We’ll be waiting by the phone.” Marinette breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” she nods to Adrien and they both dart towards the door.

“We’ll be back soon!” Adrien calls.

“Thank you, mom, dad!” Marinette says just as the door slams shut.

They slide into the back of Adrien’s limousine, and the blonde boy gives the driver the directions. As the car pulls off, Marinette can’t help but feel a little...excited. She’s never driven in a limo before, and had the circumstances been different, she would’ve enjoyed herself a little bit more. But the leather seat sticks to her thighs and it’s much too cold inside the car. They get there in no time, and they both thank the driver before climbing out of the car. Marinette is worried that they’ve missed it after all, but Adrien points to the crowd by the graveyard and it’s enough to have Marinette subside weakly against the car door.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asks, and Marinette nods, wiping at her forehead.

“Yes.” she says, giving him a reassuring nod, and they both head into the cemetery.

“You’re not wearing black.” Adrien notes, taking a closer look at her outfit. He wasn't paying much attention towards it back at her house. The dress is pretty, a subtle Easter yellow that he suspected would flare out if she were to twirl. Marinette is silent for a moment before she responds, “I think Alya would like me in this.” her voice is small, and Adrien doesn’t comment any further. Instead, he takes her hand, partly because she looks to be swaying on her feet, and partly because he thinks she needs it, and they quietly make their way towards the crowd.

Surprisingly, the funeral is only half over when they get there. Marinette can spot Rose, her big doe eyes laden with sadness as she hangs on Juleka’s arm. There are others as well, Ivan and Sabrina and Mylene. They sneak their way into the crowd, and roses are passed to them. Marinette scans the crowd of people and spots Alya’s parents near the podium. She can only look at them for so long before she focuses back on her classmates. It’s easier to look at them than to glance at Alya’s casket or her grief-stricken parents.

An hour, on eulogy and several speeches later, the funeral is drawing to a close. They are allowed one last look at Alya before her casket is shut and lowered. Marinette doesn’t hesitate to line up with the others to get a last glimpse of her best friend.  Soon, it’s her turn, and Marinette goes to that still place inside herself, the place that has kept her alive through Alya’s death and all the days after. She peers down into the casket.

Alya. Seeing her like this is enough to make Marinette breathless. She’s still so lovely, wth her dark eyelashes and her eggshell blue dress. Marinette could look at her forever, but knows she’s holding up the line. So, she bends down and places a kiss on her forehead, using the opportunity to whisper in Alya’s ear. “Please try to forgive me.” It feels almost silly, Alya can’t hear her. But Marinette has to say it anyway.

The roses are carefully placed on the closed casket and it is lowered to the ground. Alya’s parents are crying again, and each sob cuts deeper and deeper into Marinette until she has to sit down. She can’t bear to listen, but she forces herself to anyway. If this is her penance for failing to save her friend, then she’ll carry it out in full, no matter how painful.

  

Soon after, the crowd begins to trickle away. Marinette watches her classmates leave. Juleka bids farewell to Rose, and heads out the gate. Marinette finally stands, and it’s only then does she see Luka. He follows Juleka and turns around, and Marinette can’t tell if he’s looking at her or looking at the grave. Then, he’s gone too, and then it’s just Alya’s parents and the rest of her relatives. Marinette can't bring herself to leave, even though she knows she should. It really hits her that Alya is gone now, and Marinette feels lost.

"We should get going, Marinette." Adrien tells her softly. "You don't look so good."

It's true, she's sweating something awful and her stomach is starting to hurt again. "Alright." Marinette takes one last look at Alya's parents before Adrien walks her back to the cemetery gates.

He hasn’t said a word since, and Marinette is grateful for the silence. She doesn’t want to talk, and her sore throat wouldn’t allow her even if she wanted to. They get back into the car, and it drives back to her house. Out the window, she can see the funeral goers getting into their own cars and driving away as well. Some of her classmates have decided to walk, and she spots Nino walking with Mylene. Marinette is surprised she didn’t see Nino until now. On any other day, she would’ve taken more notice at how handsome he looked in his all black suit, but the only thing she can focus on is how hunched his shoulders are as he walks side by side with Mylene.

The car pulls up to her house, and Marinette thanks both Adrien and his driver about four times before finally sliding out of the car and walking up to her door. It’s only when the car finally pulls away and Marinette steps inside her house does she realize that Adrien hadn’t let go of her hand during the funeral service. Not even once.


	6. Chapter 6

  
  


“Jules--” Luka starts, but his words are drowned out by his younger sister. 

“Leave me _alone_ , Luka!” Juleka snaps, and slams her door shut in his face. Luka sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. They rarely ever fought, even when they were little kids. He and Juleka were just too...calm for fighting. Sure, they exchanged the occasional sarcastic quip or eyeroll, but this was entirely new to him. Juleka had kept up a calm facade at the funeral, but now, in the safety of their own home, she let her mask slip. Just like she had been doing every day for the past two weeks. Luka knows that bottling things up never worked for his younger sister. She had tried that in the past, and all it resulted in was frequent anxiety attacks and bouts of crying.

Besides, they were much closer now. Not that they weren’t close growing up, but Juleka was able to talk to him more freely. She was able to express her emotions without feeling like she was being judged. The only other person she could do that with was Rose. 

“Jules.” Luka knocks softly on her door. “Come on, open the door.”

“I said, go away. I don’t want to talk to you!”

Luka’s shoulders drop and he sighs. Maybe he really should just leave her alone for now and come back later when she calmed down a little. “Fine, but you know you can come to me, alright, Juleka? I know this is hard for you.”

If she hears him, she doesn’t say anything. Luka turns around and is about to head back to his room when Juleka’s door creaks open. That was quick.

“This is all her fault.”

Luka turns and faces his younger sister. Her eyes are rimmed red and she’s got her arms crossed, but what’s startling is the expression on her face. She looks angry and broken and much too fiery to look like her usually calm self. 

“Who’s fault?” Luka asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ladybug’s!” Juleka throws her arms up in the air. “She’s the reason Alya’s dead.” Luka gives her a sympathetic look. He had seen the change in Juleka’s behavior once she started opening up to her classmates. Marinette had been the one to start it, followed by Alya, and the rest soon after. Juleka would come home from school and immediately print out the pictures on her phone, tacking them up on her wall. It went from one or two to a myriad of them, bright and blurry photos of her laughing and posing with her classmates. 

Luka had noticed the change immediately. One day she just smiled, and it was different from the ones he was used to. This one was brighter, livelier, and out of the blue, she said, “I’m really happy, Luka.” Alya had come up on many occasions during their talks, and Luka had seen her in a lot of Juleka’s photos. Even before he saw her in person, he could tell that she was bold and lively and fun. That was only reaffirmed when he saw her in person, always accompanied by a blushing Marinette. When Luka first heard that she had died, he was convinced it was a mistake, or some sort of twisted joke. Even now, after the funeral, he had a hard time wrapping his head around it.

“I was  _ there _ , Luka.” Juleka said, pulling him from his thoughts. “I was watching from down the street. I saw Alya fall from that building.” for a minute, Luka is afraid she’s going to start crying again, but the thickness in her voice grows hard. “Alya died because of her.”

“Juleka, you can’t say that.” Luka shakes his head. 

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s true, Luka, and you know it. Ladybug and Chat Noir have battled countless akuma and nobody got hurt before. So why is this suddenly so different? Why did Alya, of all people, end up dying? Can you really call yourself a superhero if you can’t even protect one person?” 

“Juleka…” 

“Alya was my age, Luka. She’ll never grow up now, and I lost a dear friend because Ladybug wasn’t quick enough.” Juleka has run out of breath now, and her voice is starting to crack. “It’s not fair.” her anger dies to mere embers, and then Juleka is crying. Luka doesn’t hesitate to gather her in his arms, and his heart twists inside his chest. 

 

When he lays in bed that night, Juleka having calmed down hours ago and asleep in her own room, he thinks back to Marinette. He had seen her back at the funeral, so pale and sad. She had to be sick, from the pallor in her face, and the crushed look in her glorious blue eyes had cracked something inside of him. Someone as lovely as her shouldn’t look as though her whole world had just slipped away. 

When Luka falls asleep, he wonders if Marinette blamed Ladybug just like Juleka did. 

  
  
  
  


Once Marinette recovers and is back to her healthy self, she goes back to school. 

And after that, life proceeds as normal. 

She goes to school and goes back home. Marinette does all her schoolwork and helps in the bakery. To an outsider, nothing appears to be amiss. Her parents question her, like any good parents would, and all Marinette does is nod and says she’s okay. Really, she is. Getting dressed and completing her work is much easier than Marinette had thought. She tells herself things and she does them without question or preamble.  _ You need to brush your teeth, Marinette. Now you need to eat breakfast, Marinette.  _ If she keeps this up, perhaps she can detach herself long enough so that the pain can’t reach her. It sounds illogical, but it’s all she has. 

 

Then there’s an Akuma attack downtown. 

Marinette had seen the black butterfly dart across the sky on her way home from school. She had been looking up at the clouds as she walked home, trying to get lost enough in the scenery so she won’t remember all the times she and Alya had walked home together. Marinette had seen the flap of its dark wings in her peripheral vision, and soon it flutters right past her and over the rooftops, away from sight. 

Marinette doesn’t move at first. Then, she gathers herself and keeps walking back home, face entirely blank. 

Marinette honestly feels like this little akuma has nothing to do with her. If she hurries home, she can make it in time to grab the last danish that her mother cooked this morning. It could be an after-school snack as she completed her homework…

“Marinette?” Tiki’s voice slips through the crack in her purse. “Aren’t you going to deal with the Akuma?”

“No.” she says flatly, and Tikki’s eyes widen. “Chat Noir can handle it by himself.”

“Marinette,” Tikki responds firmly, and there’s something in her tone that makes Marinette stop in her tracks. “you know that’s not true.”

She’s right. Even if Chat Noir could somehow handle the akuma, Ladybug is the only one who can purify it and set things back to normal. But so what? All she would do is fail again. No, she can’t go out there…

Marinette glances down and sees the expression on Tikki’s face, something unreadable that makes Marinette’s eyes widen.

Tikki won’t budge, and Marinette relents. “Alright.” she takes off towards a back alley. “I’m going.”

Once they’re safe in the shadows, Tikki flies out of the purse, and her expression softens. “I’ll be with you the entire time, Marinette. I swear.”

Marinette nods, but her stomach is sinking. “I know. Spots on, Tikki.”

  
  


As it turns out, stopping the Akuma is a lot easier than expected. It takes not even an hour to find the Akumatized victim and set things right. The butterfly, now purified, goes flapping away. The victim, a young woman who had been entirely too stressed out on her job, thanks both Ladybug and Chat Noir before waving goodbye. Soon, citizens begin to filter back onto the streets, most of them watching the two superheroes.

Marinette feels strange in her Ladybug costume, but the tight knot of anxiety that had coiled in her stomach since she transformed has loosened some. The streets begin to crowd, and Marinette begins to take her leave. 

“Ladybug?” she turns to face Chat Noir. He had remained relatively composed through the ordeal, but there’s something strange in his bright green eyes. It seemed like everyone was looking at her oddly today.  “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, kitty.” she assures him, and twirls her yo-yo anxiously. “How about you?”

His black ears go flat against his head, and he shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” he doesn’t even try to hide the dejection in his voice. They must look pitiful. Two supposed superheroes way over their heads, more lost than any child. “It’s...been really tough these last couple of days.”

“Yeah, I know--”

“Excuse me?” a new voice cuts in, and they both start. A red-headed girl, no older than Marinette herself, has approached them. She has piercing green eyes and a culmination of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. Ladybug already has a bad feeling about this from the hard lines in her face. 

“Uh, yes?” 

“Did you hear about Alya Cesaire?” the redhead asks. “Did you hear that she died? It was in the obituaries in the newspapers.” 

Ladybug’s insides freeze, and her world grinds to a halt again. She forces her voice to work. “Uh, y-yes...I heard…”

“How do you feel about that?” the girl’s words are hard and accusatory. She cocks her head to one side and squints those emerald eyes. “It must be pretty shitty for her parents, y’know?”

“I--”

“Have you even talked to them, yet?”

“I don’t--”

“Do you feel like a failure now that someone you were supposedly trying to protect has died?”

“That’s enough.” Chat Noir steps in, and there’s a fire radiating off him. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

The sharpness in his voice doesn’t deter her, however. “Oh, really? And how do you--”

“We’re not answering anymore questions from you.” Chat Noir takes Ladybug gently by the wrist and throws the redhead a nasty glare that surprises her. “And put that phone away.”

Shock ziplines through Ladybug. A phone? Since when did she…

The redhead puts her phone away, smirking to herself. She doesn’t seem the least bit daunted by them and gives one Ladybug one last glance before sauntering off. Chat Noir leads Ladybug away until they’re safe from any other prying eyes and invasive questions. 

“My lady, are you…”

“I’m leaving, Chat.” Ladybug has already extended her yo-yo. “You should get going too.” At his face, she points to his hand. “You’re ring is beeping.” her words sound strange in her own ears, as if she’s speaking underwater. She goes flying through the air, not looking back to see if Chat Noir is still there. 

 

Marinette detransforms in her room and takes her earrings out. She throws them on her desk and immediately crawls back into bed. That horrid girl with the green eyes had taken over all her thoughts, and Marinette clenches her teeth, frustrated and angry. Just what in the hell did she know? She didn’t know anything about Alya. That girl didn’t know how hard she tried to save Alya that day. Marinette closes her eyes, trying desperately to block out that girl’s words and her mocking sneer. 

“Marinette.” Tikki calls, and Marinette doesn’t respond. “Marinette!” Tikki sounds much sterner this time, and Marinette burrows her way out of her cocoon of blankets. 

“What is it, Tikki?” Marinette asks, trying not to sound annoyed. Was it so hard to be left alone for one minute? She didn’t want to talk!

“You need to stop shutting me out, Marinette.” Tikki is flying in front of her, big eyes squinted in irritation. “We’re a team, we work together. Alya’s death just isn’t on you, you know. And if you want to get through this, you’re going to need to rely on me. You don’t have any other options.” Tikki almost yelled the last part, and Marinette must have looked shocked or hurt, because the kwami’s features softened considerably. “I know it’s hard, but try to put your trust in me, Marinette. It’ll be so much easier for you to get over this if you just let me in.” Tikki falls silent, having exhausted herself. Marinette doesn’t know what to think, she doesn’t even know what to say. All she can do is meet Tikki’s gaze and nod. 

“Alright.” she finally says, and runs a hand through her hair. “I trust you.”

**Author's Note:**

> ah, my most angst-filled work yet. this idea popped into my head and wouldn't leave, so i decided to write it out. i hope you all enjoy, and please tell me what you think!


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